


The Light to Carry Me

by babycrowshouyou



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Fluff, M/M, kinda fluffy too so, so this is kind of angsty i guess?, sorry i'm trying to get better at writing "angst"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 08:40:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6898987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babycrowshouyou/pseuds/babycrowshouyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I keep telling myself that if I stay here hours after practice, hitting serve after serve, practicing set after set, maybe, just maybe, I’ll become good enough to compete with someone like Kageyama. I know it’s all a lie, that I’ll never be good enough, but I do it anyway."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Light to Carry Me

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm super bad at writing "angsty" things; I wrote this mainly because I'm trying to get better at it, and also because I was really inspired by a song by PVRIS.
> 
> Inspired by "Demon Limbs" by PVRIS.

“Oi, shittykawa, it’s been three hours since practice ended; I’m tired.” Iwaizumi frowned up at his setter, who was panting softly as he stared at the volleyball in his hands, as if Iwaizumi hadn’t said a word. He frowned and walked over to smack the ball from Oikawa’s hands, forcing him to acknowledge his presence.

“What the hell, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa’s small whine was to be expected, but it seemed a bit off from his normal complaining, and the remnants of his dazed expression lingered a bit longer than usual in his eyes. Iwaizumi, instead of rolling his eyes like he desperately wanted to, chose to sigh and put his fist on his hip in an attempt to give Oikawa a look of disapproval.

“You need to take a break, Oikawa; I’m not letting you stay here until 10 again, like last night. C’mon, I’m starving, let’s go get some food.” He turned from Oikawa, not giving the taller man a chance to argue. However, even after cleaning up the scattered volleyballs and grabbing his gym bag, when he looked back at Oikawa, he noticed that he hadn’t moved from his spot in the middle of the court. Even with his eyes cast downward, Iwaizumi could easily recognize the look of reluctance at the prospect of leaving. He really didn’t understand Oikawa sometimes; despite all of his doubts, he had been offered an amazing volleyball scholarship to the college they were both currently attending, and he was one of the top college-level setters in the entire country, yet he still acted as if he wasn’t good enough. Iwaizumi knew that their loss in their third year of high school to Karasuno still haunted Oikawa, but he never really understood why. Yes, Kageyama was a natural-born volleyball genius of whom he was sure Oikawa was still a little envious, and yes, that loss had ended their high school volleyball career before they could have the chance to get to nationals, but he thought Oikawa had very much proved how far skill and hard work could take someone.

He walked over to Oikawa slowly until he was standing before him, and then reached out to lightly punch his best friend’s shoulder.

“Oi… C’mon, Tooru.” His voice came out softer than before, almost as if he was coaxing a small, sad animal from a dangerous situation. Oikawa finally looked up at Iwaizumi at the sound of his given name and smiled a large, plastic smile that Iwaizumi wanted to smack off his face.

“Aww, Iwa-chan, I love it when you get all soft on me, especially when you use my name; it’s so adorable!” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and punched Oikawa’s shoulder again, a little harder this time, earning him a small yelp from the setter’s mouth.

“Shut up, shittykawa, and get that damn smile off your face. I’d rather see you genuinely frown than give me a smile that fake,” he grumbled, looking away. Despite his annoyance, he could feel his ears heat up a bit from being called adorable. Oikawa chuckled softly, but allowed his wide smile to fade into a small, sad smile. _At least that one’s real,_ Iwaizumi thought to himself before turning away to grab Oikawa’s bag for him. Oikawa took it with a small “thank you” before walking out with him. They locked up the gym and walked toward central campus, where most of the restaurants and cafes were. They settled on the small cafe that served Oikawa’s favorite milk bread ( _“It’s just so much yummier here than anywhere else, Iwa-chan!”_ ) and both placed their orders before finding a small booth next to a large window. The sun was starting to set, and Oikawa always got the dreamiest look on his face as he watched the colors of the sky change. (Not that Iwaizumi paid attention or anything.)

With his eyes turned toward the sky outside, Iwaizumi allowed himself to study Oikawa in silence. Despite the happy, energetic front he always put up, Oikawa’s exhaustion was obvious to Iwaizumi; he could see it in the little things, like the light lavender bruising beneath those warm, milk chocolate eyes that would be almost invisible to anyone else, or how his usual laugh had been a little off recently. Iwaizumi had to admit that he was pretty worried about Oikawa. He had broken twice already: the first when he had almost hit Kageyama in middle school, the second when he had trained so hard in high school that he had injured his knee, which had almost resulted in him never playing volleyball again. He was worried that Oikawa would break for a third time, and that it would be the one he wouldn’t be able to come back from.

A waitress came by with their drinks and food, breaking Oikawa’s skygazing in time to catch Iwaizumi still staring at him. Iwaizumi looked away quickly, trying his hardest to fight off the blush that he knew was already present on his cheeks. Okay, so some of his worrying about Oikawa was brought on simply because they had been best friends nearly their entire lives, but he had realized after Oikawa’s knee injury that the other origin of his fear came from the pulse-quickening, stomach-twisting, blush-inducing _love_ that he felt toward his best friend. It was natural to worry about friends, but the amount of fear he had felt when he got the call from Oikawa, saying that he had dislocated his knee ( _“Th-the doctor said if I h-had landed j-j-just a little differently, I wouldn’t be ab-able to play anymore. Is th-this what I get for tr-try-trying to get better, Iwa-ch-chan?”_ ) was far greater than it would’ve been if he just cared for Oikawa “as a friend”.

Iwaizumi quickly started stuffing his mouth full of his sandwich, avoiding Oikawa’s gaze at all costs. Oikawa didn’t know about how in love with him Iwaizumi was, but if he kept letting himself get caught staring at him, he would definitely find out soon.

“Iwa-chan, you’re making a mess.” From the corner of his eye, he could see Oikawa’s nose scrunch up a bit as he simultaneously feigned disgust and tried to hold back a laugh.

“Shut up, trashykawa,” Iwaizumi mumbled around his food, turning red as he looked down at the crumbs that were accumulating not only on the table, but his shirt and pants as well. Oikawa chuckled and handed him a napkin, and Iwaizumi allowed himself to look up as took it. Oikawa was smiling now, at least, and it was real, too. Iwaizumi found himself chuckling as he wiped off the crumbs into his hand to put back on the plate. Things felt almost easy again, as if his messy eating had helped break up the gloomy clouds over their heads that day. In that moment, he wasn’t worried about Oikawa, because this Oikawa, the smiling, bright-eyed, giggling man, was the one he knew from his childhood, the one he really fell in love with all those years ago, and just hadn’t noticed until recently. This Oikawa almost seemed unbreakable.

 

A couple years later, in their third year of college, however, the inevitable third break came.

While he had overworked himself quite a bit for the past couple of years, it was never bad enough that Iwaizumi had been worried. They had managed to start dating after Iwaizumi’s (accidental) confession during their second year, and that had seemed to help boost Oikawa’s spirits significantly, to the point where those tired eyes and exhausted smiles had eventually brightened a bit whenever they were together. However, what caused Oikawa to break should not have surprised Iwaizumi as much as it did.

The initial cracks formed when Kageyama joined the volleyball team. Iwaizumi knew there was still a bit of bad blood between him and Oikawa, but he had assumed that maybe, since they had all matured a bit, the animosity had died down at least a little bit. It probably would have died down over the course of the season, if Kageyama hadn’t effectively replaced Oikawa as the team’s setter.

With this new development, Iwaizumi knew that it wouldn’t be long until Oikawa started pushing himself too hard again. It started slowly, subtle enough that Iwaizumi hadn’t immediately caught on. Oikawa started staying a little later in the gym every day, just half an hour at first, and he had easily convinced Iwaizumi numerous times that he could go home before him. ( _“I’ll be home before you know it, Iwa-chan! I just want to work on my serves a little longer!”_ ) Thirty minutes had easily turned into an hour, and then two hours, before Iwaizumi realized exactly what was going on.

After practice about two months into the season, when Oikawa gave him the same spiel as always, Iwaizumi finally stood his ground and refused.

“I’m not going home without you tonight, Oikawa. You’re falling into the same routine again, you know; you’re gonna end up hurting yourself worse than before.” Iwaizumi crossed his arms, frowning up at his boyfriend. Oikawa’s smile fell almost immediately, but there was no trace of guilt or shame anywhere on his face. Instead, he looked down at Iwaizumi with a blank expression, his mouth set in a hard, flat line.

“I can take care of myself, Iwa-chan. Go home; I’ll be there soon.” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and didn’t move from his spot.

“Do you think I’m an idiot? I know exactly what you’re doing, shittykawa. I know how you feel toward Kageyama, and I know that it sucks to feel like you’ve been replaced, but this isn’t the right way to deal with it. You’re doing more harm than good, Tooru.” At this, Oikawa’s flat expression finally broke, revealing pure rage, which sent ice cold waves of shock down Iwaizumi’s spine. Never before had he seen Oikawa make an expression like that, and especially never directed toward him.

“What the _fuck_ do you think you know about being replaced by an underclassman? About working your entire life to get to where you are with your skill level, only to find out that you’re always going to be below someone with natural talent? Don’t you get it, Iwaizumi? I’m never going to be good enough. I keep telling myself that if I stay here hours after practice, hitting serve after serve, practicing set after set, maybe, just _maybe_ , I’ll become good enough to compete with someone like Kageyama. I know it’s all a lie, that I’ll never be good enough, but I do it anyway. Maybe I’m just a masochist, maybe I like setting myself up for failure, but don’t you fucking _dare_ tell me that you know what I’m going through.” He wasn’t yelling; his voice was actually relatively even, but his words were hitting Iwaizumi like waves of freezing cold water, causing him to flinch a few times. He stared at Oikawa, speechless as he struggled to find something, anything, to say in order to combat his boyfriend’s negativity. Oikawa was right, though; Iwaizumi didn’t understand, not really, and he probably never would, but that wasn’t going to stop him from doing everything in his power to at least help alleviate some of Oikawa’s suffering.

He quickly reached out and wrapped his arms tight around Oikawa’s midsection, pulling him close to bury his face in Oikawa’s neck. He felt Oikawa’s surprised gasp against his arms, and didn’t have to look up to know that his enraged expression was now one of shock. Iwaizumi wasn’t one for initiating physical contact, and was rarely speechless in an argument. He held Oikawa tight, eyes shut as he pressed his face into the skin of his boyfriend’s neck, and uttered the two words Oikawa was not expecting.

“I’m sorry.”

Silence hung heavily in the air as Iwaizumi continued to hold Oikawa, but it wasn’t until he felt the slight tremors rippling down Oikawa’s abdomen that he realized that Oikawa’s silence was caused by the tears flowing down his face. Iwaizumi quickly pulled his arms away from where they held Oikawa in order to reach up and gently wipe at his tears with his thumbs. Finally, Oikawa spoke.

“I just do-don’t understand, Ha-Hajime… I worked so-o hard, and he ju-just waltzed in and sto-stole my position like it was nothing… What did I do wrong?” Iwaizumi frowned and gently pulled Oikawa’s head down so that he could press their foreheads together.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Tooru. You’re the hardest working person I know, and believe me, I’m pissed that moe people don’t recognize that. You’ve worked so, so hard to get to where you are, and you couldn’t have done anything differently to become better than you are. I don’t understand what it feels like to be replaced, you’re right about that; but I do understand how frustrating it is being born without the natural ability to do something. It sucks, really, because for people like us, we really can only get so far before we’ve learned and grown all we can. You’re frustration is natural, Tooru, believe me, but even with that said, we can’t just give up, either. Both of us have come so far, worked so hard to be where we are, and that’s something people like Kageyama will never understand. They don’t know how amazing it is to watch yourself grow slowly, they don’t know the pride we feel when we practice for days, weeks, months on perfecting a move and finally getting it right. Everything comes easier to them, sure, but they don’t have that sense of growth like you do, and to me, that growth is more than enough to be proud of. You went from knowing nothing about how to play volleyball to being invited to a college to play, with a pretty amazing scholarship, I might add. You did all of that without relying on natural ability, Tooru, and that’s amazing.” Iwaizumi kept his eyes locked on his boyfriend’s, and watched as they started to water all over again. Oikawa let out a strangled sob before pulling Iwaizumi to his chest and burying his face in his hair. Iwaizumi rubbed Oikawa’s back soothingly, allowing him to cry as long as he needed in order to let everything out. As he held his sobbing boyfriend, he realized that maybe this third break wasn’t as bad as he initially thought it was going to be. He felt like Oikawa needed this; he needed to be pushed a little in order to finally get rid of that fake, plastic smile he had started wearing with Kageyama’s arrival, and he needed to let everything out of his system. He knew this wouldn’t be a fix-all; Oikawa would still probably try to stay late to practice, if only to prove his commitment despite not playing in the starting lineup anymore, but hopefully, he saw how much Iwaizumi believed in his ability, and hopefully, he began to truly believe in himself, too.

After what felt like hours (but was really only about thirty minutes), Oikawa’s sobs had subsided into soft hiccups, his tears just about dry. He slowly pulled away from Iwaizumi, sniffling, before chuckling softly.

“Sorry, Iwa-chan, I think I got some snot on your shirt.” Iwaizumi looked down at his shoulder, which was still wet with tears, and probably the snot Oikawa was talking about. He sighed and looked up at his boyfriend, a small smirk playing on the edges of his mouth.

“That’s not surprising; you’ve always been an ugly crier, shittykawa, and that usually involves a hefty amount of snot.” The whine of protest that tumbled out of Oikawa’s mouth was enough to confirm that he was feeling at least a little better, which help calm Iwaizumi’s lingering worry. He chuckled and grabbed Oikawa’s hand in his, gently running his thumb over Oikawa’s.

“Iwa-chan, you’re being so loving; maybe I should cry more often!” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and dropped his boyfriend’s hand before grabbing both of their bags.

“C’mon, shittykawa, I’m hungry.” He half expected Oikawa to protest, to ask to stay longer to practice more, but instead, he skipped over with one last sniffle, a real smile stretched across his lips.

“Can we go to that cafe again, Iwa-chan? The one with the good milkbread?” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes as Oikawa laced their fingers together, but smiled and bumped his boyfriend’s shoulder lightly.

“Sure, Tooru.” Oikawa yipped with delight and the two walked out of the gym and into the nice, warm evening, the sky painted with purples, blues, and oranges as the sun started to set.

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhh I'm sorry for that. Thank you for reading, and if you want to, come chat with me on [tumblr](http://chrisssenpai.tumblr.com)!


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